


To Catch Your Eyes

by Mackem



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is jealous. Porthos is oblivious. Athos is sick of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Catch Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dairyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairyme/gifts).



> Spoilers for Episode 8, "The Challenge". Set while Porthos is talking to Alice at the end, whilst Aramis lurks in the background, seething with jealousy. Life outside of the musketeers indeed! Title from Jealous Guy by John Lennon because I am ridiculous.

“You did the same as him.” Apparently, even when he is supposed to be celebrating with d’Artagnan, Athos can always be relied upon to point out the annoying truth.

“I did _not_ ,” Aramis protests, his voice lowered because Porthos is mere feet away, spending time with Alice. _Alice_ , to whose hand he pressed a kiss when Porthos introduced them, because he is a gentleman, even when seething with jealousy.

The taste of her skin lingers yet in his mouth. He fancies he can taste Porthos beneath it.

Athos moves to block his view of Porthos; kindness, perhaps, or a mockery thereof. “You seduced a widow.”

“And then I moved on!” Aramis hisses. “I didn’t – didn’t imagine a future with her! That wasn’t the plan!”

“I suppose you neglected to tell Porthos as much,” Athos murmurs. He levels a knowing look at Aramis. “You have neglected to tell Porthos rather a lot, I feel.”

Aramis bristles, and hates the way it makes Athos nod. Proving Athos right about his faults is never pleasant. “It is none of your business,” he says stiffly.

“Isn’t it?” Athos folds his arms, as if they’re discussing the weather, as if this is nothing but a pleasant chat between friends. Aramis thinks his idiot heart may beat out of his chest any moment. “When does it become my business, then? When you moon over him for years? When you seethe at his finding somebody who is willing to confess their love for him? Perhaps when he makes you godfather to a beautiful child?”

“Stop it,” Aramis demands, or perhaps he is pleading. “Athos, _stop_.”

“I will stop,” Athos promises, his voice low, “when you _start_. Tell him.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re good with words.”

Aramis grits his teeth, and forces out, “I _can’t_.”

“Why can’t you?” Athos murmurs, and Aramis snaps.

“Because I cannot hear him reject me! I cannot, Athos! I can cope with not having him because I have not dared make a move, but I cannot cope with not having him because he does not _want_ me!”

Athos shakes his head, a pitying gesture that leaves Aramis narrow-eyed and scowling. “And you claim to be an expert in love,” he sighs. He squeezes Aramis’ shoulder; Aramis ducks out from beneath it, and weathers his disapproving look with bad grace. “He would never reject you,” Athos says flatly. “You do him a disservice. But he may well run off with another because he does not realise you want him.”

Athos settles his hat atop his head. Aramis should not see victory in the gesture, and yet. “And whose fault would that be?” Athos asks pointedly, and strides away.

Aramis shakes his head, attention once more fixed on Porthos and his love.

Maybe, he thinks morosely, just maybe, if _Athos_ is offering romantic advice, his situation is more ridiculous than he has dared believe.


End file.
